All Good Things FLow Into The City
by WinLik3aBosS
Summary: This is a story about a young man named Aaron and his friends that go on an unexpected adventure throughout Rapture. This story is currently closed. I am planning on doing another Bioshock story in the future, but this one seems to be a dead end for me. If you wish to continue it by yourself, by all means go ahead.
1. Chapter 1: Welcome To Rapture

All Good Things OF This Earth Flow Into The City

"Would You Kindly…"

-Atlas-

Andrew Ryan. The man who created "paradise". Born, Andrei Rianofski, a in the town near Minsk in Russia. Died, Andrew Ryan, in his home, his invention, his grave. He was said to be one of the most accomplished men on Earth. He did what many thought was impossible. He built Rapture, an underwater city where "the artist would not fear the censor, where the scientist would not be bound by petty morality, where the great would not be constrained by the small,". From 1946-1958, Rapture soared with progress. It had solid political stability, a culture of entrepreneurship, and unprecedented scientific advancement.

Then, Rapture had an economic collapse. Citizens were unhappy with the top-heavy class system, and thought that jobs like food processing, cleaning, and simple maintenance were beneath them. The citizens rose up in protest. Protesters using signs demanded to be allowed to return to the surface, and proclaimed that "Ryan doesn't own us!" Ryan, also the head of Ryan industries, put forth a product that would hopefully stop the riots and help stock prices go up again. He bestowed plasmids. An interesting drug (Invented by Brigid Tenenbaum) that introduce modified stem cells into the body, allowing for genetic modification and mutation, giving the user what some might call "super powers". Plasmids, however, require replenishing, and can only be replenished with ADAM. ADAM is the raw form of the unstable stem cells harvested and processed from a type of Sea Slug parasite. Ryan used all of his money to build what to him was a safe haven. A place where one could be "Entitled to the sweat of his brow."

While Rapture was still in its "Golden Age" however, a "parasite" named Frank Fontaine came down to Rapture and took over Fontaine Fisheries. Eventually, he began to smuggle contraband items into the city by creating a secret smuggling ring. At one point, Fontaine's men discovered the sea slugs in which hold ADAM. Brigid Tenenbaum discovered the slugs soon after and came to Fontaine, asking if he could fund her genetic research. After agreeing to do so, he set up his business monopoly "Fontaine Futuristics" and employed both Tenenbaum and another scientist, Yi Suchong. Andrew Ryan began to see him as a threat to his company when he noticed the criminal acts he composed. Ryan then sent Security Chief Sullivan to crack down on his smuggling ring. Frank Fontaine was declared dead in a shootout with Ryan's men on September 12, secretly came back into society as a hero, family man, and freedom fighter named Atlas. Atlas charmed the mob of angry protesters, while setting the stage for the Civil war. This was the civil war that tore families apart, turned friend on friend, and brother on brother. As Atlas described, "Plasmids changed everything. They destroyed our bodies, our minds. We couldn't handle it. Best friends butchering one another; babies strangled in cribs...the whole city went to hell."

Aaron D. Murphy viewed himself in the mirror. It was what he would do every day he woke up, but he didn't know exactly why. He personally thought that it was because he wanted to get a good look at what he had become, and what he predicted he will be. His scruffy blond hair was tossed about, lacking any appearance of it being tended to recently. His slender frame almost made him look like a vagabond, but he was far from such a title. Aaron's father, Daniel B. Murphy, was the managing director of a very popular drug store known as Gorland's. He worked for a man named Frank Gorland, but rarely even saw him. Then, one day, Gorland disappeared. Nobody knew where he went, and Daniel was promoted to managing director.

Aaron sighed after realizing he had been staring at himself through the mirror for almost five minutes. He often daydreamed, about a life besides taking over Gorland's after his father passed on. He wanted to be free, and he wanted to get out of their apartment in New York City. Aaron hated the noise all day and all night, denying him any chance of falling asleep. Because of this, had bags under his eyes, and often fell asleep at his small job in Gorland's, angering his father. Daniel was not a very patient person, like his wife Catherine. Catherine J. Murphy had long, flowing blond hair, and always tried not to spoil Aaron. Against her best efforts, she had spoiled him, but Aaron turned out to be an ordinary man. Aaron loved his mother greatly, and was shattered when he heard that she had disappeared along Harris Beach.

After getting dressed in some jeans, a short-sleeved shirt, and some sneakers, Aaron looked around his room one last time to make sure that he wouldn't be needing anything else before he went out. With a quick pan of his room, he was positive that he had everything he needed. He felt his right pocket before exiting his room. Inside, it held his wallet. It was the last thing his mother had given to him before she disappeared. It was a very old present, most definitely, but since his father was always at work, Aaron never had the time or his parent's company for his birthday. Finally, Aaron walked down the stairs and went into the kitchen. There, his father had left him some leftover's to eat for breakfast. Feeling not very hungry, he dismissed the idea of sitting down to eat, walked over to the front door, and opened it, entering the long stretch of the hallway that was outside his apartment.

Cynthia was Aaron's closest friend. She was a tomboy, and always wanted to join in on whatever Aaron was doing. They had been friends ever since she moved across from him. Cynthia was a blue-eyed brunette, who was about the same height as Aaron himself. When Aaron entered the hallway, he stood face to face with her door. He promptly walked over to her door, and knocked. From what Aaron could hear from his side of the door, someone was quickly running over to get the door, and saying "Coming!" Following those words, the door swung open to see Cynthia standing in the doorway, wearing jeans, red sneakers, and a short sleeved shirt. She smiled at him as he met her eyes.

"Hey Cynthia, Darryl called and he wanted to know if we wanted to go out somewhere today. I told him that I wanted to get out of the house, and I wanted to know if you wanted to come." Aaron asked. Cynthia didn't even answer his question before she closed the door behind her and said,

"Yeah!" They walked down the long hallway, and reached the stairs. After descending 3 floors, they reached the lobby, where they saw Darryl, Beth, and Curtis standing outside, waiting for them. Darryl was a tall, had dark brown hair, and was a police officer. He had decided to call up his friends today because his boss had decided to give him the day off since he was a rookie, and had been working hard for the office all month. Beth was an eccentric young woman just entering her 30's, with long brunette hair that was tied into a ponytail. Curtis was Aaron's second closest friend. They had been in grade school together since 3rd grade, and both met each other on the train for work every day. Curtis had short red hair, and glasses, but was far from what some would think nerdy. He played football at college, and made a very good quarterback. As Aaron and Cynthia passed through the glass doors, Curtis flashed a grin.

"So, Aaron you decided to come. Thought you might not make it." He said taking Aaron's shoulder and giving it a good shake. Aaron gave a small laugh and responded,

"Yeah, well I decided that it would be good for me to get some air, instead of getting cooped up in my room all day." After greeting each other,  
>and making some small talk, Darryl took a look at his watch. The small metal hands showed that it was 4:31 pm.<p>

"Well it's already 4:31! What do you guys want to do?" Everyone thought to themselves for a moment while they walked slowly along the sidewalk. People coming and going moved past them, and a small car accident had blocked traffic on the road. Trash bags that had piled up along the sidewalk sent a rotten stench into Aaron's nostrils. Instinctively, he turned his head in the opposite direction, and spoke up,

"I'm kinda hungry, maybe we should go to a restaurant?" Everyone nodded in agreement to Aaron's suggestion.

"Yeah not a bad idea, I heard that this new bar opened up along Harris beach called Fontaine's just opened up! Wanna go check it out?" Aaron nodded furiously. 'Anything to get away from this noise and awful stench' he thought.

Harris Beach wasn't exactly a resort area where people could relax and play in the sand. There were no people playing in the water. There were no refreshment stands or Beach towels. There wasn't even any sand. All there was, was a brick wall that rose out of the water, and a road that ran alongside it. As Aaron and his friends strolled along the sidewalk, Curtis was leading them, while reading a map, which he was very good at.

"This map says it's just around the corner c'mon lets go." Darryl looked at his watch again, and saw that it read 5:13 pm. Eventually, the sign: Fontaine's, appeared. The restaurant was a small building built on wooden and concrete supports. It had two floors but the second floor was probably used for residential purposes. It seemed to be one of the few restaurants that lined up along the side of Harris beach. Throughout the walk to Fontaine's, Aaron refused to remember that this was indeed the place that his mother had disappeared. He hid his glum expression behind a curious and happy one. His friends couldn't tell that he was hiding anything.

By the time they had reached the entrance to Fontaine's, they were all quite hungry. When they entered through the wooden double doors, they were met by a waiter.

"Hello. Do you have a reservation today?"

"No, we'd just like a booth though." Darryl responded. The waiter nodded and looked back to his clip board behind the podium he was standing behind. After a few seconds of him running his pen along the clipboard, the waiter looked back towards them and said,

"Well, we still have three booths left. Would booth 3 do just fine?" He asked them.

"Yes please." Darryl said. The waiter nodded and led them to their booth. As they all got seated, another waiter appeared. He handed out menus and napkins. The menu consisted of mainly seafood, which Aaron hoped didn't come out of the waters within Harris beach. Subsequently, Darryl put down the menu and asked Aaron,

"So, how are you and your father getting along? Everything ok?" Even though Aaron felt that he was protruding on his personal life, he did want to answer how he felt. Maybe even answering this would help himself realize how he really felt.

"It's not like we hate each other Darryl, it's just I don't want to become some managing director some drug store. I mean, yeah it's pretty popular and will give me some money to spend, but I don't want to be stuck at a counter all day filling out prescriptions or telling people how much something costs. I want to do something special."

"I guess, it's just you never talk about him, and it's as if you hate him. Pardon me if I'm intruding on your personal space here." He confessed. Aaron didn't want to talk about his father at the moment and tried to change the subject.

"Yeah, hey Cynthia what've you got there?" Cynthia was looking over a piece of paper that looked like a boarding ticket, but to where Aaron didn't know. Cynthia looked up at them.

"Oh nothing, just something I found." She quickly tried to dismiss the conversation. But just like Cynthia, Aaron didn't want to talk to Darryl about his father, so he tried to keep it going.

"C'mon let me see." At first, Cynthia didn't move a budge. Then, after a few moments of everyone staring at her, she reluctantly pulled out the piece of paper. As Aaron looked it over, he could tell it was a ticket for sure. But as he continued to survey it, he found that the place that the ticket brought you to was named Rapture.

"What's Rapture?" Beth spoke up. All eyes went back to Cynthia. She looked back at them with curiosity.

"What? It's not like I know..."

"Well, you were the one holding it; I would assume that you would know something about it." Darryl said. She shrugged.

"I found it on the floor on our way in. I just looked at it now, and I have no idea where it came from." Darryl plucked it out or Beth's hands, and looked it over carefully.

"I haven't ever heard of a place called Rapture...it could be a city, because it's definitely not a country, or a town. It couldn't be a town because nobody would take a ticket to a town...and what's this...traveling by...bathysphere?" Nobody said anything. They all had the same thought going through their minds. Finally, Curtis spoke up.

"If the person used this ticket to get to 'Rapture'...and they traveled by bathysphere...than that means that the city is...underwater..." He finished. Silence enveloped their booth, as the waiter reached their table. They each ordered their meals, and went back to the ticket. Suddenly, Aaron laughed. He received strange looks from the rest of the table.

"Oh come on guys! You can't build a city in the middle of the ocean, and since we found the ticket here, this person, whoever they might be, would have to have built their city in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean! It's freezing cold, and need I mention the lack of air underwater?"

"You make a good point Aaron," Darryl replied, "But what if this person, say, was very, VERY rich? Then the possibility of this person building a city under the ocean would seem more possible. That's also probably what the city's name is too...Rapture." Aaron sighed.

The waiter came back again, and asked if everything was to their liking. Beth answered for the group, and told them it was delicious.

"All right I guess we're done here. Let's go." Curtis concluded. Cynthia put the ticket into her pocket, and the rest of them stood up to leave. Just as they reached the door, they heard a commotion behind them.

"You MUST listen to me! I have a ticket! It's a very important ticket and I MUST have it! I was right there! See? Right there in booth 3!" The waiter tried to calm him down, and said,

"I'm sorry sir, but this restaurant isn't responsible for lost items. If you want you may check there again before our next customers take the booth?"

"NO! I already checked that booth! Booth number 3! Somebody's stolen it!" The man was dressed as a fisherman, and was looking around frantically for anybody who might have his ticket. Cynthia then became nervous.

"Sir please calm down. I am sure nobody has stolen your-"

"You! Give me my ticket!" The fisherman quickly turned towards Cynthia, who had just realized that the ticket was slightly peeking out of her jeans pocket. He advanced on her with a wild look in his eyes. "Give. Me. My. Ticket!" He said again. Darryl stepped between the scared Cynthia and the crazed fisherman.

"Hold on, she'll give it to you. There's no need for a fight." The fisherman acted as though he didn't even exist, and kept his eyes fixed on Cynthia. "Cynthia, give him the ticket." Cynthia quickly fished the ticket out of her pocket, and presented it to the fisherman. Just as quickly as she showed it to him, he snatched it from her grasp.

"It's about damn time. Lamb would have me killed if I didn't come back in time..." his words became quieter and quieter as he walked out the door. Darryl and the rest of the people in the restaurant watched him go.

"I'm going to follow him. There's something that's not right about him, and I want to know who that Lamb person is..." The waiter spoke up from behind the counter,

"Should I call the police?" Darryl turned back towards him and flashed his badge.

"I am the police." His final words sank into the room as he exited through the door. As Darryl exited the door, Aaron and the rest followed. The long streets of Harris beach were still busy with activity as cars and people passed by. Through all of the noise, however, a small voice could be heard,

"Yes...yes, yes, yes...Lamb would be very upset...yes she would...I better get going before she gets upset...yes better get going..."At first, Darryl could not locate the voice. It couldn't be along the beach, then he would have to be...under the docks. Darryl quickly ran over to the nearby railing separating the restaurant from the water. Slowly, he peeked his head under the floorboards. There, he could see, just under him, a large, golden sphere. It was neatly settled along a small clump of rocks and garbage that had settled alongside the restaurant. He didn't want any conflict with the fisherman, and decided to do the confrontation democratically. He stepped out from his hiding place and crouched near the edge of the pier, with his friends still next to the restaurant.

"Hey! Hey excuse me! Sir?" Darryl called down to the fisherman. At these words, the fisherman jumped and shakily turned around.

"Y-y-yes?" He replied. Darryl could tell from his voice that he was indeed hiding something.

"I'm Darryl C. Floyd from the New York Police. I'd like to ask you a few questions?" After a few moments, the fisherman said nothing. Then, without warning, the fisherman shot his hand forward and the most un-expectant thing happened. Electricity hit the stone pier, sending rocks and debris all over the place. The explosion had knocked him over into the street, where cars stopped to view the scene. The people in the restaurant had come out to see as well.

After shaking off dust and dirt from his face, Darryl realized that he couldn't let this man get away with assaulting a police officer. With that, he jumped off the pier into the golden sphere where the fisherman was hastily trying to stash himself. Beth, Aaron, and Cynthia came out onto the pier to view the scene.

Darryl struggled with the fisherman, but after a few violent moments, Darryl succeeded in slamming the fisherman's head onto the wall rendering him unconscious. A small line of blood trickled down his face. When Darryl took a closer look at his face, he was shocked. He had small deformities along the side of his face. Tumors the size of gumballs and disgusting twists in his face almost made him gag.

"Hey! You okay down there?" A voice from above said. Darryl grabbed onto the nearby ledge, and hoisted himself upwards. There, he saw his friends and the waiter bending down on the partially destroyed pier. "Hey, should I call the police about this?" the waiter said. Standing atop the sphere, Darryl rummaged through one of his pockets until he found a card.

"Here, contact my headquarters and tell them Darryl C. Floyd sent you to file a report." Darryl handed the waiter a card containing the phone number for his headquarters. He then turned back towards the sphere. All in all, it was quite obvious that it had seen better days. Rust had covered it almost entirely, but he hadn't checked the inside yet. Darryl looked back towards his watch, and was surprised to see that it was 7:56 pm already.

Cynthia, Aaron, Curtis, and Beth climbed down the pier wall and stood upon the small pile of rocks and garbage next to the sphere.

"That must be the bathysphere that the ticket was for...but if nobody's operating it besides him then why would he need a ticket?" Beth pointed out. Darryl shrugged.

"Probably insane. I got a good look at his face, and I think he's been using drugs or something, because it's all screwed up." Darryl then turned towards the wide glass window that covered almost a half of the side pointed towards his friends. For a closer look, he climbed down from above the bathysphere, and joined his friends on the rocks.

"Should we go inside?" Curtis asked. Darryl approached the entrance cautiously, and put his hand up to tell his friends to stay where they were.

"I'll take a look first." he said. He gripped the golden handle and pulled. The door swung further open, since the fisherman had tried to hide himself inside. His unconscious body fell to the floor, into the water. Darryl ceased his investigation, and turned towards the body.

"I'll take care of him just keep going." Said Aaron as he approached the body and pulled it out of the water. In the distance, Aaron could hear the sirens of police cars echoing throughout the city as they approached. Finally, Darryl succeeded in fully opening the door. As soon as he stepped in, the smell of alcohol and smoke entered his nostrils. He coughed a little, and took a quick survey of his surroundings.

A soft red couch lined roughly one third of the bathysphere's interior. In the middle of the couch, was a handle, which looked vaguely similar to the one's used on ships. After confirming that it was safe, he motioned for his friends to follow. One by one, they each entered the small sphere. Each one of Aaron's friends was fascinated at what they saw. Suddenly, the bathysphere started to shake. The garbage and rocks beneath it apparently could not sustain the weight that the sphere was providing it with. The whole group was thrown about in the small room, frantically trying to reach their way out.

"Oh my god what's happening?!" Beth screamed as she slid into the couch. Aaron, on the other hand, was not taking the time to question what was happening. He had reached the door, and was about to reach his freedom, when the loose door flew into his face, knocking him unconscious. Before long, the door had shut, and the bathysphere was descending into the water.

Frantically, Curtis searched the small room to see what might help them escape their certain doom. He then laid his eyes upon the switch.

"Dammit get-us-back-to-the-surface!" He said as he pulled the lever back as hard as he could. Much to his dismay, it only seemed to speed up the sphere's speed into the cold Atlantic Ocean. After a few terrifying moments, a whirring sound started up, and a small white screen appeared in front of the glass window.

"Look." Beth pointed to the screen as a projector started to portray images. Then, a man's voice was heard,

"I am Andrew Ryan, and I'm here to ask you a question."

"Is a man not entitled to the sweat of his brow?

'No!' says the man in Washington, 'It belongs to the poor.'

'No!' says the man in the Vatican, 'It belongs to God.'

'No!' says the man in Moscow, 'It belongs to everyone.'"

"I rejected those answers; instead, I chose something different.

I chose the impossible. I chose... Rapture."

Then, the screen pulled up. Aaron's eyes bugged out and Beth gasped. There, behind the glass wall separating them from the ocean was a city. An underwater city. Lights shown everywhere and small tunnels with glass walls stretched from building to building. As they passed one, what looked like a man in a diver suit was using a rivet gun to patch a leak into one of the tunnels. Aaron watched him until he disappeared from view. The group watched in amazement as the projector continued.

"A city where the artist would not fear the censor.

Where the scientist would not be bound by petty morality.

Where the great would not be constrained by the small!"

"And with the sweat of your brow, Rapture can become your city as well."

As the projector came to an end, the sphere reached a metal port; that looked like a rollercoaster; that led to a building. On the bars read:

"All good things,"

"Of this earth,"

"Flow,"

"Into the city,"

Finally, the sphere reached the building's port, and started to ascend. Bright lights lined the wall in front of them, and thousands of bubbles of oxygen flew about around the sphere.

"Oh my god. What are we going to do...?" Aaron exclaimed. The rest of the group decided not to share their thoughts. So much had happened in the last three and a half hours that their minds just couldn't comprehend what had just happened.


	2. Chapter 2: Plasmids

**Hey, its me WinLik3aBosS. I just want to say that if you're reading this chapter, be aware that i am still updating the rest. I have a whole new plan on the story line, and the first two chapters don't make sense with the other two. I will update them as soon as i can, but for now, please just comment on the first two chapters. Enjoy!**

Chapter 2: Plasmids

As the Bathysphere ascended, everyone in the room became more and more apprehensive. Blue lights lined up on either side of the stone walls that cradled the Bathysphere as it was entering its final destination. After what seemed like ages for Aaron, the sphere entered the building's port with a loud gurgling sound. The sphere came to a pause before ascending even further with a sudden halt. A small mist lingered in the area in front of them which Aaron presumed to be the docks. Curiosity took over his mind as he ventured in front of the others to the glass door. He grasped the golden handle, and gently pushed it open. With a silent hiss, the glass door opened upward and presented them a full view of their surroundings.

A stone pier rose out of an open room where what looked like a waiting room was supposed to be. However, time turned the waiting couches and chairs into ruin because of the lack of people to preserve it. But where were those people? Aaron wondered.

A golden fringed carpet lay across the stone pier with golden railings bordering each side. Above the grandeur display, was a red cloth banner that read:

"The Great Chain is guided by Our Hand!"

What the hell was this 'great chain'? Aaron continued to think to himself. He had plenty of questions about this place that he wanted answered. Smells of garbage and rotting corpses reached his nostrils, and gave him a clue that danger was almost certainly ahead.

"I guess we should try to find someone to help us..." Beth said. Darryl was inspecting the Bathysphere's lever, which had been torn off by Curtis. It was clear that it was impossible to fix without proper equipment or skills. Darryl concluded his examination of the broken handle and turned back towards their new world.

"So I was right all along. This is Rapture, and it IS an underwater city." Darryl said. Aaron nodded while keeping his eyes fixed on his surroundings. "We should find a phone, and call someone. There must be somebody on the surface that knows about this, and if they don't, it's high time they found out."

With that, Darryl climbed out of the bathysphere, followed by Curtis, Beth, and Cynthia. Each of them stood outside the sphere in awe. They just couldn't believe that somebody had the money, and the motivation to build an entire city underneath the Atlantic Ocean.

"Uhh guys?" The group turned their attention to Curtis who was crouched next to the small opening between the bathysphere and the docks, "You might want to take a look at this." Aaron held back while Darryl quickly walked forward. As he came closer, he could see what Curtis was talking about. A man was floating in the water that surrounded the bathysphere. His chest was disemboweled, leaving small pools of blood surrounding his corpse.

"I wouldn't take that as a welcome sign. We'd better find a phone fast." Darryl said, as he stood up." Beth and Cynthia stood a little while back from where he was, and didn't dare come any closer after hearing what they heard. Darryl walked down the stone pier into the waiting room. As soon as he set one foot into the waiting room area, thick metal panels that lined the wall in front of them began to descend. Inch by inch, the Atlantic Ocean was laid before them through a thick wall of glass. Darryl decided that they had no time for sightseeing, and moved the group along as they tore their eyes from another magnificent sight. As they walked, Cynthia caught sight of many signs that lay on the floor, reading:

LET IT END!

LET US ASCEND!

And other posters like

WE'RE NOT

YOUR PROPERTY!

'Some sort of riots must've happened here...I wonder why...' Cynthia speculated. Drops of blood were thrown about on the walls and floor of the room, and bullet holes were scattered here and there. One had hit the glass on the ceiling, allowing a small stream of water to pour into the area. Darryl continued to lead the group up a small flight of stairs that led into an open room that was presumably a lounge room.

Another corpse greeted their arrival as they reached the entrance. He was hunched over, leaning against a small statue. Small pools of blood came from his shirt and face. From the wounds on his face, it looked like someone had beaten him with a blunt weapon. Next to his body, lay a wrench. Darryl walked over to it and picked it up.

"Might come in handy." He said to himself out loud. Ashtrays and Garbage cans were at each entrance and corner, with small tables and chairs centered in the room. Foods of all sorts lay here and there, as if some sort of commotion had happened recently.

As Darryl continued to search the corpse, he found that it also had a small rucksack. Darryl pulled it off the body and inspected it. 'Great, now we can carry food with us until we find our way out of here'. He started going around the room, gathering all the food items and stashing them in the rucksack.

Aaron and Curtis wandered the room aimlessly, searching for anything peculiar or interesting. Pictures of hands flashing what looked like lightning were flashing in bright neon lights. Before long, they had reached the top of the stairs and heard music playing,

"My daddy's SMARTER than Einstein, STRONGER than Hercules and lights a fire with a SNAP of his fingers. Are you as good as my daddy, Mister? Not if you don't visit the Gatherer's Garden, you aren't! Smart daddies get spliced, at the Gardens!"

Both young men followed the song to a red and white vending machine. On each side, were two statuettes of little girls. In the machine slot, were a few syringes, each containing a peculiar liquid. Curtis sauntered up to the machine to get a better look, followed by Aaron.

"What do you suppose this stuff is?" He asked him. Aaron hadn't had the slightest idea.

"I don't know. Maybe it's some sort of medication?" Curtis shook his head.

"No, no it can't be. No doctor would put a random medication in the middle of the room and ask people to try it. I think it's some sort of soda, or something." Aaron thought about what he had said. A soda? He got a closer look at one of the syringes. The blue liquid inside had a thicker concentration of that of a soda.

"Hey what're you looking at?" Darryl asked. Curtis and Aaron turned around to see Darryl walking towards them with his rucksack full of food.

"We really don't know..." Curtis acknowledged. All three of them stared at the liquid for some time until Aaron broke the silence.

"Do you think we should take it?" Darryl kneeled down and put the bag before him. He opened it up, and peered inside.

"We have enough room, and enough food. Sure, let's take it." Curtis and Aaron nodded and grabbed the three remaining syringes full of the strange liquid. Suddenly, Beth and Cynthia came running up the steps as quickly and silently as they could.

"There's somebody coming down the hallway! What do we do?" Cynthia panicked.

"Calm down. Who's to say that this person isn't friendly? I'll go take a look and make sure it's ok." Darryl reassured her. Everyone watched as Darryl disappeared down the flight of stairs.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, the smirk that was on his face faded. He had tried his best to look confident and fearless with it on, but deep down, he had a bad feeling about whoever was walking down the hallway. Only silent taps of his shoes could be heard as he crept among the wall. As he reached the door, he slowly peered over. There, walking down the hallway was a man.

He was dressed in what looked like formal clothes, and had a bandage wrapped around his forehead. He held only a pipe, so Darryl guessed that it would be an even fight if things turned south. While the man was still in the middle of the hallway, Darryl decided to make his move.

He slowly moved out into the middle of the hallway, wielding his wrench just in case. The man took some time to notice him, since he was whistling and looking out the window as he walked, but as soon as his eyes rested on Darryl, he froze. Both men stood completely frozen, staring at one another. After a few moments of total silence, Darryl decided it was ok to talk.

"Um...hello?" He asked. The man, still completely baffled by his appearance, just nodded. "I was wondering if you could help us." Darryl continued. Finally, the man snapped out of his confused state, and stood awkwardly in the hallway. Each of them was wary of each other, and ready for a fight.

"Well...you might want to ask someone else...but then again...I might be the only one who might not bash your brains in..." The man said timidly. Then, he raked up his courage, "Who are you and what are you doing here?" He asked defiantly. Darryl shrugged.

"We don't know. We came here on accident, and we really would like to leave." Upon hearing these words, the man snorted.

"Well then, now we have something in common. Everyone in Rapture wants to get out." Still unsure on if the man was safe or not, Darryl held his distance.

"How can I be sure that you're not going to try to kill me?" The man raised his hand to say something, but then held himself back, trying to find the right words. Then, he snapped his fingers and said,

"I'll tell you what. Seeing by the style of your clothing, you stick true to your word. I'll roll my pipe to you, and then we can talk. Deal?" Darryl thought it over for a few moments, and decided this would be the best way.

"Deal. Roll the pipe to me." The man nodded and raised his right hand (the hand not holding the pipe) while he placed the pipe down with his left hand. He kicked the pipe towards Darryl, who quickly picked it up while keeping his eyes on the man. Then, using his hands, he motioned for him to come to him. The man obliged and walked towards him. As he came closer, Darryl noticed that he had no deformities, tumors, or wounds at all. It was as if he didn't fit in.

By the time he has walked to the center of the lounge room, Cynthia, Beth, Curtis, and Aaron were all peeking over the railing to get a better look.

"All right, now that I've proven I'm not going to kill you, may I have my pipe back?" he asked.

"Not just yet. I must ask some questions first. Where are we and where is the nearest telephone?" The man just sighed.

"Jesus man I don't keep track of the telephones around here. Probably down that hallway somewhere. And for the first question didn't you see the presentation?" Darryl furrowed his eyebrow.

"No, I'm sorry, I was too busy focusing on making sure we didn't drown." Marcus frowned.

"Oh, well your in Andrew Ryan's nightmare of a city, Rapture. And by they way, if you want to survive, I'd suggest you get something more than a wrench."

Darryl looked down upon his weapon. "Just who are we fighting down here? Murderers? Gangs? Thieves? Surely your city has a police department. I'm sure they can take care of it." The man just laughed.

"You just don't get it do you?" He shook his head in disappointment. "I wouldn't blame you though, you weren't here for the civil war." At the mention of the civil war, Beth turned towards Curtis and whispered, 'what civil war?'. Curtis quickly pulled her downward at the sound of a small brass pipe being knocked over as she turned. "As for our enemies you were talking about. The city is our enemy, our cage, and our grave. You come here, you stay here, you fight here, and you die here." Darryl still had questions to ask, but he noticed that this conversation had seemed to take a toll on Marcus. He looked downcast, letting his eyes wander the halls of the dead city. Even though he didn't want to trouble their new accomplice anymore, he still wanted to know one thing.

"How did you survive with only a pipe?" Darryl figured that he might have some useful tips, or maybe he was living with a smaller community or something.

"Well, I don't just have a pipe." Darryl became nervous. This was it. He had a pistol in his pocket and was going to open fire any minute. But despite his thoughts, the man actually crossed his arms. "What do I have you ask?" Before Darryl could respond, he disappeared into a small cloud of red smoke. Bewildered, Darryl stared at where he once stood.

Beth however, knew exactly where he was. Right in front of her. He had appeared out of thin air and was holding a small bunch of flowers in front of her.

"Flowers for the lady." He said smirking. Beth, not wanting to feel rude, cautiously accepted the flowers from the man. Aaron, Curtis, and Cynthia were still trying to figure out where he had come from. "The name's Marcus Flynt, but just call me Marcus."


	3. Chapter 3: Now you know

Hey it's me WinLik3aBosS, I'm back! I've been away for so long because my computer crashed and I've been working and downloading things. (SORRY)

Chapter 3: "Now You Know"

Beth continued to stare at the splicer before her. He had light brown hair and looked as though he was a vagabond. His vest was covered in blood and dirt, while his shirt underneath was ripped at the ends and ragged. It was quite obvious he had been here for some time, and seen some action in it. As sudden as he appeared in front of Beth, he disappeared into a small cloud of crimson red smoke.

Darryl watched with mild amusement as Marcus appeared in front of him.

"As you can see, I do not have any weapons." He said while wearing a (quite irritating) smirk. Darryl summed Marcus up in his head. He couldn't have survived alone in this city surely, so he must have some friends helping him, right? Darryl decided to dismiss these questions until later, and focus on finding a phone or some way out of the retched city.

"Now, is your objective still to find a telephone, or is there a slight change of plans?" Marcus asked while leaning against a wall. Darryl scowled. Of all the people in this place, why did he have to run into a childish moron for their tour guide?

"Lead the way. Curtis, Aaron, Cynthia, Beth, come down now. We're leaving." With that, Aaron stood up and helped Cynthia up. From their perch on the balcony, they could see their new accomplice leaning against a wall as Darryl eyed him warily. Aaron followed Curtis down the worn and shattered stairs back to the center of the room. As they reached Darryl, they cautiously stood behind him.

"So! Looks like the rest of your gang decided to join the party. Swell, we can have a little reunion." Marcus said sarcastically. Darryl picked up Marcus's pipe, and handed it to Curtis. "Hey, that was kinda mine." Marcus protested. Darryl turned to him, this time he was wearing a smirk.

"Well, you were the one that said that this wasn't your only weapon. I'm sure that you won't need it." It almost looked like Marcus was going argue with him, but instead, stood there trying to think of what he could say that would get him his pipe back. They started walking down a short glass hallway surrounded by the Atlantic Ocean. As they reached the next bulkhead door, it slid open revealing another waiting lounge area. The group stumbled inside, and instantly noticed that the power was off. They explored every nook and cranny of the room. Curtis was searching a small crate when he noticed a door hidden behind some knocked over tables. The wood had smashed and splintered apart upon hitting the door, laying debris everywhere. What had caused this ruckus bewildered him.

"Hey guys I found a door." Everyone departed from their exploring, and walked over to where Curtis was standing.

"Good, let's hope it's the power room. Then we can get the lights back on." Darryl said. Curtis grabbed an overturned trash can and threw it aside as Aaron brushed the splintered wood aside. Then, Marcus, and Darryl picked up the smashed table and put it aside. When they finished, Aaron took a closer look at the door. The table had made a deep indent in the writing, and most of the paint had shed off, but the picture next to it told him it was indeed the power room. He grasped the door handle and pried the door open.

With a little effort, he managed to open the damaged door open enough for him to get through. As soon as he squeezed through, he entered a small, metallic room that was surrounded as steaming hot pipes, spurting steam out through holes in the pipework. A small stream of steam lightly burned his elbow, and he cursed.

"What is it?" Curtis called from behind the door.

"Nothing, nothing just a bit of steam that's all." He replied, cradling his arm. He turned back to the room, and continued onward. As he continued, he noticed a small door hatch on the floor. Before he opened it, he took another quick glance around. The rest of the room was just more pipework. Aaron turned back to the hatch, and opened it just as soon as Darryl made his way through the door. Beyond the hatch, was a small ladder that led to a small grinding noise. Aaron grabbed the ladder with his good hand, and tucked the other one in his stomach. Slowly, he made his way down the ladder.

Darryl helped Cynthia through, and started his way to the ladder himself. Marcus peered through the door, and offered his hand to Beth, who looked as though she was scared of going inside.

"Miss? Would you need a hand?" Beth looked at him, and nodded. With that, he held her hand, and focused his mind on the other end of the door. Instantly, they disappeared in a flash of smoke, and reappeared on the other side. Beth had closed her eyes in the process, and was holding on to Marcus tightly. Marcus stood there for a moment, and then spoke,

"You can let go now…." Beth immediately let go and thanked him quietly.

Aaron had reached the bottom of the ladder as Darryl started to climb down. Before him was a metal catwalk over two pairs of steel gears, grinding against each other. At the end of the catwalk was a small platform, with a door leading into what Aaron guessed to be a control room. He cautiously crossed the catwalk, and grabbed the wooden door handle. The door creaked loudly as he slowly opened it. It was apparent to him that the door had not been oiled in a while. The room was dimly lit by a small lantern sitting on a desk in the corner. The green striped wallpaper was peeling off the walls, and papers lay everywhere.

Aaron stepped inside, and realized that it smelled. Smelled of something foul. Smelled of… death. Aaron immediately became frightened, and turned around to see the rest of his friends reach the bottom of the stairs as the wooden door quickly closed shut. The sound of the door locking echoed throughout the room.

"Help! Help it's locked!" Aaron yelled as he banged his fists against the small glass porthole in the door.

"Oh, you won't be getting any help from them. In fact, I've sent some friends to dispose of them for you instead." Aaron swirled around to see another figure standing near the desk, holding a radio transmitter. "Checkmate." He sneered.

Marcus, Curtis, Cynthia and Darryl had just reached the bottom of the ladder, when the saw the wooden door separating them from Aaron close shut. Darryl quickly ran over with the rest on his heels. Aaron was clearly scared, but he also looked concerned. Darryl tried to piece together what he was trying to say.

Try as he may, Darryl couldn't understand what Aaron was trying to say through the thick glass. The sound of heavy footsteps and the gibbering voices nearby, however, gave him a hint.

"Splicers!" Marcus said in realization. He quickly grabbed the pipe from Curtis and readied himself by the entrance of the catwalk. Darryl had different idea. He picked up his wrench and started slamming it against the wooden door with all his might, chipping off splinters of wood with each strike.

Aaron stood frozen to the spot, wondering what he could do, and what he should do. The figure leisurely strolled over into the dim light of the lantern. His face was badly scarred, with a tumor the size of a golf ball spreading over his neck. He was wearing a pair of glasses that were broken in one lens, and was holding a small, blue ball in his palm. The ball was leaking blue liquid all over his hand, but he didn't seem to notice.

"See, I'm tryin' to run a respectable business here, and your presence is disruptin' it. So I'm gonna have to end your disturbance." The man raised the hand with the blue ball, and before Aaron could react, he threw it at him.

"Hurry up damn it!" Curtis yelled at Darryl, who was now getting tired of smashing his wrench into the door. He had managed to smash through the wood, to find that there was a metal interior to the door, and now he was just plain exhausted. Marcus abandoned his position near the ladder and moved towards Darryl. He peered inside and saw another man in the room with Aaron.

"We gotta get him out of there! Here, help me." Marcus was pointing to a nearby emergency kit, which contained a fire ax. Marcus moved over to the kit, turned his face away, and smashed the glass casing with his elbow. Glass shards fell to the floor, and Marcus opened the kit and retrieved the ax. He moved back to the door, and motioned for Darryl to move back. Beth and Cynthia stood a little while back and watched. Marcus gripped the ax in his hands tightly, and swung with all his might. The ax easily penetrated the wood, but bounced off the metal. More of the wood fell from the damaged door and scattered on the floor.

Aaron braced for the impact, and was completely surprised and utterly disgusted when it made contact with him. The blue ball exploded on impact, sending bluish goo all over his shirt. He could feel the cold wet goo seep through the shirt and touch his shirt; he shivered and closed his eyes, preparing himself for the worst. But nothing happened. He opened his eyes, and looked at the man expectantly. The man continued to smirk, for what reason Aaron didn't know.

Then, one of the nearby desks started to shake. A red light glowed in the darkness, and a whirring noise spurred to life. Aaron instinctively backed off, and began to freak out. He returned to the door, and resumed smashing his fists against the door.

Marcus swung again, this time; the ax broke through the metal interior. Then, he looked upward at the porthole, hearing silent thuds. Aaron was hysterical, smashing his hands on the glass frantically trying to get their attention.

"Hold on! I'm almost through!" Marcus called to him. He was about to take another swing when he heard a scream. Curtis, Darryl, and Marcus turned around. Three splicers stood, holding both Beth and Cynthia hostage with pistols to their heads.

"C'mon little lady. Scream for me!" A splicer with a serious burn across his face laughed. Beth struggled in his grasp, hyperventilating. Another splicer with broad shoulders and a meat cleaver held Cynthia in his grasp. Marcus and Darryl eyed them carefully. The last two splicers carried baseball bats. From what each splicer carried, Marcus assumed that the one with the pistol was in charge.

Marcus was already devising a plan in his head.

"Sorry to disturb you, but the boss said that he needed something taken care of. He was quite specific about how to kill you too, but he wasn't exactly clear about killing these two beautiful girls right here." The leading splicer snickered. Darryl nearly vomited. "Well, enough chatting, time to end this little confrontation. See ya later!"

Marcus was prepared for the splicer's attack after surviving years of Raptures dangers, and disappeared before the splicer could make him as a target. Instead, the splicer chose to fire at Darryl. Luckily his police officer training hadn't been for nothing. His reflexes kicked in just in time to save his life. They did not, however, spare him the fate of being shot in the shoulder. Darryl fell to the ground clutching his shoulder in pain. The next bullet entered the chamber of the splicers pistol as he reloaded, but before he could fire again, Marcus reappeared behind him, wielding the ax, and swung with enraged fury. Thankfully, the splicer had let go of Beth before the ax implanted itself in the splicer's neck, setting off a nervous twitch in his hand that fired the pistol. The bullet exited the barrel and flew through the air. It was though time itself had slowed down as the bullet flew through the air. None of the combatants, however, wanted or expected what could've happened next.

The bullet sped right into the chain of metal holding the catwalk into place, snapping it into pieces. Everyone held the same expression on their faces.

Oh man.

The catwalk tilted as soon as the chain snapped, knocking the second splicer holding Cynthia over the edge, into the grinding gears. Cynthia held her hands to her ears and closed her eyes to prevent the sounds of the splicer getting grinded into paste.

Darryl was still recovering from his wound, and Marcus pulled Cynthia aside to safety. Beth tripped and fell down on the catwalk, as the other splicer wielding the baseball bat swung at her. Marcus turned from finishing his earlier opponent, and swung the ax at the other splicer.

This splicer however ducked just in time, avoiding Marcus's attack. The splicer swung his bat at Marcus and hit him on the thigh, making him stumble. But the splicer was given no time to recover. Marcus kicked him while he was down, sending him on his back with a surprised 'oompf!'

The splicer that had been holding Beth hostage had seemed to have enough of the fighting. With a quick slash, he cut another chain holding the catwalk, which sent the entire crosswalk, and its occupants, sideways. Darryl held Cynthia close to him as they watched in terror. Beth was holding onto the catwalk railing, screaming for help. The splicer with the baseball bat was knocked unconscious during the sudden tilt, and lay helpless, hanging from the railings. Marcus had landed only a few feet in front of him, dazed.

"Either I leave here, or nobody does!" The splicer with the cleaver yelled over the loud noise of the machinery below.

Aaron was scared. He had never been this scared in his life, never been in this much danger. Never been this close to death. He had to act fast. He did the only thing he could think of, no matter how stupid and reckless. He charged the man. At full speed, he launched himself off the door, releasing a scream of anger (somewhat for his own confidence). The man's face didn't change even though he was charging him at full speed. Aaron could almost feel him he was so close!

But he passed right through him. He wasn't there! The hologram turned and smirked.

"You really thought I would just meet you here in a small room with only a metal door separating me from your friends? Ha, you've got a lot to learn. I'll be keeping tabs on you boy, keep me impressed, and I might let you live." With that, the machine under the desk roared to life, throwing the desk aside in a cloud of papers. It was almost like a small helicopter with a machinegun implanted in the right side. A red light acting as an eye visor told Aaron it wasn't friendly. He quickly dove behind a nearby clutter of desks. The machine sprayed bullets towards his direction. He held his head in his hands, as he waited for the 'storm' to subside.

The machine hovered over to his desk slowly, searching for any living targets to eliminate. Aaron knew it would spot him eventually, and when it did, it would no doubt stop at nothing to kill him.

Marcus scrambled towards Beth, desperate to stop her from the fate of the previous splicer. He grasped her arm, and started to pull her up.

"Hey pretty boy, catch this!" The splicer had crossed the catwalk like a balance beam, and was standing above Marcus. He swung his cleaver down upon his shoulder, and cut a small gash, sending blood pouring out. Marcus quickly put his hand to his neck to stop the bleeding, but his grip on Beth's hand was slipping.

"H-Help me!" She screamed. Marcus was trying as much as he could to stop her from falling, but her hand was slipping, and his neck hurt like hell.

"Say good bye to your friend pretty boy!" The splicer laughed. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have an appointment to make. Don't worry son! This'll only hurt a lot!" the splicer raised his cleaver, ready to strike. Marcus closed his eyes. But Marcus felt no pain. No cold metal upon his flesh. Nothing. He opened his eyes, but closed them instantly when a drop of liquid hit his eye. He slowly moved his hand away from the wound on his neck, and wiped the blood from his eye.

Darryl had stood up from his slouching position and stabbed the splicer with Marcus's fallen ax. He and Cynthia helped Marcus and Beth up from the Catwalk. Darryl laughed, "Great. So this is what it's like just trying to get the power on huh." Marcus tried to laugh too, but his neck hurt too much, so he simply nodded.

Hey it's me again. I know I know I left it off kinda hanging there, but give me a break will ya? Anyway, check on the next chapter to see what happens!


	4. Chapter 4: Firefight

**Hey there, its me WinLik3aBosS. I just want to inform all readers that if you're squeamish, than you might want to pass this chapter. There are some grousome scenes in this chapter that will get bloody. Other than that, if you're not squeamish, enjoy!**

Chapter 4: Firefight

Everyone was sleeping except for Darryl. He kept his eyes on the man in the cot. Even though he wasn't a full duty cop, he still took his job seriously, and he was going to make sure this man was safely strapped down. Looking over his face, he noticed that his jaw was slightly tilted and his lip was swollen. Darryl couldn't say honestly that he expected this man to become sane, because he didn't. He still couldn't believe that Beth would bring him in. 'Why him?' he thought. 'We might as well pick up every damn madman we pass', 'I mean, how is there even the slightest chance that he will survive'.

As time passed, curiosity got the better of him, and Darryl slowly crept over to the man in the cot. Before he got anywhere between 1 foot of him, Darryl looked him over one last time. He convinced himself that he was asleep, and slowly brought his hand inside the man's vest. He poked around until he found a Wallet. 'Hmmm…I wonder who he is.' Darryl flipped open the wallet to see a self-portrait of the man and a younger boy as to which Darryl presumed to be his son.

"Done nosing around?" Darryl quickly turned to face whoever had spoken to him. Cynthia sat in the corner watching him as he had picked around in the man's vest and wallet. She glared at him as she walked over to him. Darryl sighed,

"Why were you watching me?" Cynthia shrugged.

"Maybe because I knew from the start that you would take no chances with this guy." She patted the man on the chest. Then she quickly withdrew it after realizing she had accidentaly put her hand into a small puddle of blood on the man's vest.

"Well we could at least know his name." Darryl said. He raised the wallet back up to his eyes and flipped through until he found an ID card. It showed a much better looking picture of the man. Darryl looked at the name.

"His name is Marcus." Cynthia raised her eyebrows. "He's 34, has no criminal records, and seems to work in…the technology development industry." Darryl read from his ID papers. Both of them were confused.

"If he hasn't had any criminal records, then why is he one of these mental madmen wandering around this city? Why would he come here in the first place?" Darryl looked at Marcus again. If his face wasn't disfigured and he didn't have blood all over his close, he might've looked like a normal man. But these features made him much more like the opposite. Darryl wondered what would happen when he woke up.

"I don't know Cynthia. I just don't know." Darryl stared into the wall, with his mind blank. He didn't know what to think. They stayed silent for a long time, completely ignoring each other. Cynthia remembered the coin she had. She pulled it out of her pocket and looked it over. She noticed that she had seen it all around the city so far. Cynthia definitely recalled seeing that letter somewhere before. Before she realized it, Darryl was shaking her shoulder.

"Hey you alright?" She didn't know.

"Let's get some sleep Darryl. I'm tired." Cynthia concluded, and leaned her head onto the wall and fell asleep.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" Everyone jumped awake. Confusion rang through the air. As Curtis looked around, he found where the noise was coming from. Marcus was writhing and screaming in his cot. He tried futilely to escape his binds. Nobody knew what to do. Just as Darryl had predicted, nobody knew how to shut him up.

"Jesus somebody shut him up!" Curtis said looking around frantically, hoping no other splicers where coming. Eugene chimed in,

"He's going to get us in trouble, shut him up!" Beth became aware that this was primarily her problem, and nervous it was making everyone. She quickly looked around and saw another one of the "Great Chain" banners. She quickly ran over to the banner and ripped a long narrow piece of cloth off of it. Then, she ran over to Marcus and tied the cloth over his mouth, muting most of his frantic screams.

"There." She said triumphantly viewing her work. Marcus was writhing and screaming through his gag. Almost all of the sound was muffled by the banner. Cynthia and Darryl looked at each other. They remembered from last night, how they had found so much about this man. Darryl wondered if he should tell Beth his actual name, but decided that it was a bad idea, since it would reveal that Cynthia and he went through his ID papers, and that could upset Beth.

"Well, let's get going. We should stay on the move so those guys," Eugene pointed towards Marcus, "don't find us. By the way, what happened to that machine gun he had? We could use that..."

"It probably fell when he tripped over that trash can. It's gone now." Curtis replied. With that, everyone stood up and brushed themselves off. Martha and Beth picked up Marcus's cot. Darryl, of course, took the lead. They continued into a narrow staircase. As they climbed, they heard voices.

"Wonder if the little guy still has some ADAM on him..."

"Here...what's this?"

"You fool that's nothing but blood!" Darryl listened intently. It seemed like two males fighting over something. But Darryl didn't know exactly what. At the sound of ADAM, Marcus grew wide eyed and became more enraged. Darryl gave him a quick glance, and glared at Beth. Beth quickly put her hand over his mouth and tried as hard as she could to block the noise. Darryl motioned for everyone to stay still and he crawled to the top step of the stairs. He saw two men standing over what looked to him like a big metal diver. They were dismembering it, searching in every nook and cranny. Darryl looked back towards Curtis, Aaron, and Eugene and motioned for them to come up to him. As slowly as he had, they crawled up to the first step.

"Listen. We have to get past those two, and I don't think that we can move past them unseen. If we each take a target, we can take them easily, and move along. I need you," he pointed to Eugene, "to move along the side and distract them. Then, I need you," he pointed to Curtis, "to take the one on the left when Eugene distracts them. I will take the one on the right. Understood?" Eugene and Curtis nodded. Aaron told Aaron he would guard the girls, and Darryl mouthed 'OK' and pulled out a pistol. He handed the other one to Curtis, and Eugene grabbed a nearby piece of wood.

Darryl noticed that they had moved past the body, and were scrounging through the nearby trashcans. Darryl pointed towards Eugene and motioned for him to go. Eugene nodded and quietly moved into the next room. He crawled forward and hid behind a nearby knocked over sofa. Curtis and Darryl glanced at each other, and held their pistols in front of their faces.

Eugene stood up to a crouched position and viewed the layout. The two splicers were still near the garbage cans. He noted where he would throw the piece of wood he had, and fell back down behind the sofa. He closed his eyes, and pictured the layout in his head. Then, he lifted the block up and threw the piece of wood behind his back and into the opposite corner of which the splicers were standing. As soon as the piece of wood hit the floor the splicers looked up. Pistol fire rang through the halls of the abandoned city as Curtis and Darryl fired away at the two splicers. Two bullets hit one of the splicers in the chest, and although it didn't kill him, he staggered backwards and slid down against the wall, leaving blood smeared across its green paint. The other one hid behind a nearby couch and began firing back, with his hand firing from over its cushions. As Darryl was reloading his pistol, a bullet flew through one of the nearby cushions he was hiding behind and hit his shoulder. He stumbled backwards, but kept his hand on the ground and propped himself up and continued firing while holding his shoulder.

Eugene had seen the splicer slide down against the wall, and decided if he was quick enough, he could grab his gun. The other one was still completely focused and enraged at Curtis and Darryl for firing at him. As quickly as he could, he sprinted while crouched towards the fallen splicer. But as he was searching for his gun, the 'dead' splicer reached up and grabbed him.

"That's all you got?!" he said as he looked square into his eyes. As he said this, blood poured from between his teeth and out his lips, dripping down his throat and covering his chest. The bullet wounds on his arm and leg began to seep with blood as well. His broken jaw made the blood pool up at that one side of his mouth. His appearance grossed Eugene out and quite frankly, it scared him.

Without thinking, Eugene started fumbling with his arms to get the splicer off of him.

"I ain't dead yet!" he spat into Eugene's face, which was now covered in his blood. And that was all he could take, for after that, he yelled out. The other splicer turned towards the noise, and Curtis saw his chance. He stood up for a better shot, took his aim, and fired. The bullet penetrated the other splicer's skull, sending pieces of his brain and blood splattered across the wall. He fell to the floor like a sack of flour. Curtis then turned to Eugene, where he was struggling to fight off the dying splicer.

"Help!" Eugene called out. Curtis ran over while Darryl limped as fast as he could while holding his arm. Curtis dropped the pistol (since he didn't want to hit Eugene) and picked up a nearby pipe. As hard as he could, he swung at the offending splicer. The blows furthermore disfigured his face, crushing his skull in and breaking his neck. Eugene lay on the floor shocked. Blood droplets covered his face, and the splicer's body still lay on top of him. Curtis pulled the body off of him and threw it aside. He offered his hand to Eugene, who gladly took it and stood up.

"Thanks for a minute there; I didn't know what was going to happen to me." Eugene thanked. Curtis nodded.

"We're all we have down here. We have to help each other out." Eugene smiled.

"I guess that means tha-"Eugene's words were cut short when a small grenade landed at his feet. Martha and Beth had set Marcus down and were at the top of the steps watching as they saw the grenade land. Eugene quickly realized what he had to do. "MOVE!" he yelled as he shoved Curtis and Darryl aside. Then, it detonated. The blast sent dust and debris everywhere. Martha and Beth ducked and put their arms over their faces to protect themselves from the dust. Curtis was knocked off his feet and into a potted plant. Aaron had been running to Eugene when it detonated, and shielded his face with his arms as he fell back from the explosion as Darryl hid behind the sofa for cover.

When Aaron opened his eyes, he could hear ringing. High, pitched, ringing. Dust and debris still flew about in the open room, and small pieces of paper burned into ash as they floated about. Nausea came to him, and he was sick all over the floor. He wasn't meant to be in a battlefield. Shakily, Aaron stood up, and surveyed the area. The blast left a big scorch on the ground and had blown some of the furniture into pieces. As he continued scanning the room, his eyes fell upon something that made his heart stop.

Eugene.


End file.
